


Green-Eyed Monster

by Losille



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losille/pseuds/Losille
Summary: Sometimes it’s difficult balancing a romantic relationship with a career and other obligations, but sometimes chances have to be taken. Sometimes, even, the green-eyed monster needs to be let out of his cage to get results.





	Green-Eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Anon on Tumblr who sent me a kind message requesting a birthday fic. I don’t always do requests, but this sprang to my mind soon after I received details. Thank you, Anon, for the messages. Also, Happy Birthday, again!

What right did he have anyway, accusing her of being impossible to pin down for a date? This was the man who spent the better of the year out of the country for his career and he had the fucking  _audacity_  to insinuate she didn’t want to make this relationship work because  _she_  was too busy with her own career, friends, and family? Well, screw him. If he kept harping on about it, he was going to have another thing coming to him.

“ _Ja_ ,” said the resonate, but demanding and terse, English voice on the other end of the mobile call. “Are you there?”

She clenched her jaw. Gritted her teeth. Okay, maybe they had a lot of things they had to work on—neither one of them had given an inch in their respective lives for each other since they’d started whatever this was between them—but that still didn’t give him the right to act like this. And on her birthday of all days!

“Yes, I’m here,” she said though her teeth.

“Look, I’m sorry. Truly,” Tom said.

He sighed into the phone, the sound of scratching audible through the line afterward. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was nervously fidgeting with his slightly overgrown beard again. She liked the look of the beard well enough, and she  _loved_  the way it rasped her thighs when they made love, but she’d spent the better part of a fortnight trying to convince him to trim it up a smidge. Frankly, she could do without a mouthful of whiskers every time she kissed him.

“I’ve really got to go, Tom,” she replied, looking at the mountain of paperwork on her desk. “The longer I spend on the phone arguing with you, the longer I have to stay at the office.”

He sighed again, this time more peevishly. “Please let me know about later. I want to take you out today, on your actual birthday, for a change. Before I have to go to my thing tonight.”

His…  _thing_. Oh, right, the premiere. She waited for him to bring that bit up, too, about how she refused to attend any public events with him because it seemed so… permanent. For a relationship that had been on and off for a little less than a year, with no defined roles beyond that of close friends who fucked, it wasn’t something she wanted to get involved with. None of that attention had ever appealed to her. Especially when she knew how quickly her life would change—how invasive and nasty people could be. Accompanying him to anything like that was tantamount to a pledge of love, and she didn’t know yet if that’s what she was feeling for him.

“Speaking of,” she said, some demon inside of her making the voice come from her mouth. She knew she should shut the hell up, lest she make the gulf between them even worse, but nothing she did dispossessed her of the thoughts in her head or the devil sitting on her shoulder. “If you’re so keen to get me all to yourself, why don’t you cancel your appearance?”

He scoffed. “You know I can’t do that. I’m second billed!”

“Yes, right, well, so the fuck am I,” she deadpanned. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Tom, but this is our life. And until we agree to meet halfway, this is how it’s going to be.”

At that moment, her boss, Bill, stepped out of his office with his overcoat hanging on his arm, ready to leave for lunch. Older, wealthy, the definition of a silver fox, she’d once fancied she had a thing for him. But that was going on seven years ago, and she didn’t necessarily like how he handled his love life. As his assistant, she’d been tasked with sending too many break up gifts through the years. What he had turned into, though, was an intelligent man and a very faithful, giving friend.

Which, of course, Tom hated. It wasn’t that Tom didn’t trust her—he simply seemed to hate not being able to show possible challengers for her hand that he had her. In fact, the irony of it was that Tom and Bill would probably be the best of friends if they pulled their heads out of their respective arses. Instead, both men resorted to their testosterone-driven hindbrains when she was around, thinking they were each protecting her from the other man, though for very different reasons.

Bill stopped in front of her desk and rested a hip against the edge, fingering the silky petals of the two dozen red roses delivered to her this morning, from Tom. In hindsight, she hoped he realized he should have just left his birthday wishes at that. Not the calls and texts, trying to get her to commit to taking the afternoon off work to be with him.

“I have to go. Bill is taking me to lunch.”

“Are you—,” he spat, but stopped himself. He reined in his voice, just barely, before continuing. Not that what he said was much better said evenly. “Maybe you shouldn’t go with him if you’ve got so much work to do?”

Enraged didn’t even cover it. “Get stuffed, Thomas. You had better have a change of heart by the time we meet up later or I’m locking your arse out of my flat. Clear?”

“Crystal,” he said a moment before the line went dead.

She tossed her phone on the desk, letting her body sag into her seat and her forehead fall on the calendar book in front of her. She  _hated_  arguing. Absolutely hated it. But for goodness sakes, something had to give if this was going to work. They couldn’t keep going on like this.

“Trouble in paradise, love?” Bill asked, a triumphant laugh in his voice. He’d told her Tom was a jealous one. She hadn’t believed him. Sure, she liked knowing Tom wanted to keep her all to himself, but when he didn’t allow her to have the same access to him… well, it just wasn’t going to work.

“Sod off, Bill.”

He laughed loudly. “Come on. I’ve booked us a table at Le Gavroche.”

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, collecting her purse and coat.

He helped her into the coat and they made their way to the lifts before he spoke. “I thought we were celebrating today?”

“We are,” she chuckled lightly. “Le Gavroche is a little much for lunch, though.”

“When have I ever skimped on you, Ja?” he asked, a salt-and-pepper eyebrow rising curiously.

She shrugged. He hadn’t really. That’s what made him a good boss. Other assistants got the short end of the stick, as far as she was concerned. He gave her a more than healthy salary, exorbitant bonuses, and additional gifts. His office philosophy was that if the company did well for him, then he did well for the staff, which made them all work very, very hard to impress him.

They made small talk, and he received a short call from one of their clients in the cab on the way to the restaurant. Soon they were seated in the sedate ambiance of one of the finest French restaurants this side of the Channel. Two Michelin stars, to be exact. He ordered wine, and they chose their main courses—she went with Coquilles St. Jacques—before he looked across the table at her with a look of concern.

“What?” she asked.

“How long have you been working for me, Ja?”

She frowned.  _Great._  He wasn’t about to fire her, was he? “Uh, seven years.”

“Right,” he said, nodding his head, scratching his square jaw.

“Why?”

He stretched back in his seat, relaxing against the pillowed booth-back behind him. “So you would say we know each other pretty well, right?”

“Bill, I go to your family Christmas parties,” she said. “If that doesn’t mean we don’t know each other well, then I don’t know what does.”

“True,” he responded. “Then you wouldn’t balk were I to give you a little advice, would you?”

Her frown deepened. “Advice?”

“Yes. Advice,” he said.

“Have I done something wrong?”

He started. “What? Of course not, Ja! You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. In fact, I’ll be loath to break in someone new.”

She felt her world closing in around her. This wasn’t happening. “Excuse me? You sound like you’re going to—”

“Oh, God, no!” he said, waving a hand at her. “I spoke too soon. Let me start at the beginning. Please. You’re not going anywhere. Verity Investments needs your talent. You’re brilliant!”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m not understanding.”

“When was the last time you took a holiday, Ja?” he asked. “Like a real honest-to-god holiday with sun and surf and no work at all. Not days off to visit doctors and such.”

Ja laughed at him. “With all due respect, Bill, keeping _your_  life and business running smoothly does not lend itself to holidays.”

“My point is,” he began, “is that we need to do something about that. You need to have a life, too, and I’ve monopolized you for seven years. Though your work has only got better, it has also made you rather…intense… with your work. You’re in there all hours of the day, shutting yourself away from having a great life.”

“I like my life just fine,” she replied, even though she rethought that the second after she said so. She loved her job. She loved her boss, her fellow co-workers. A dream, really. But he was right. She hardly ever saw her family, and her love life… well, her love life left a lot to be desired. The number one reason she didn’t want to meet Tom halfway was because she didn’t have enough brainpower left in the day to manage that relationship. Relationships were tough enough on their own, but adding in who he was… well, she just couldn’t do it.

Bill gave her a knowing glance with a shake of his head. “You know that’s not true. You didn’t say it earlier, but I heard it in your voice when you were on the mobile with Tom.”

“If he only knew you were helping him out right now.”

“Yes, well, we’ll just keep that between us, shan’t we?” he said. “He needs to have a healthy fear of other men in your life. It’ll keep him on top of his game.”

“All his game is doing is giving me grief,” she said.

Bill rolled his eyes. “You are probably one of the most intelligent women I know, but sometimes you can be quite dense.”

“Why?”

“He’s been in London for three whole months doing  _Hamlet_ , and you’ve hardly seen him at all,” he said.

“That’s hardly my fault,” she said. “He was rehearsing all the time and I had things to do.”

“Did you really have things to do, or were you  _making_  things to do so you wouldn’t have to spend time with him?” he asked. “What are you afraid of, anyway?”

Ja cast him a grimace. She hated how well he knew her. Seven years of being work husband and wife clearly had given him quite the insight to her psyche. “What isn’t there to be afraid of? You saw what happened to him last year in the press. I don’t know if I can handle that myself.”

“You’re not a pop tart,” he said. “I rather think you outclass her in every category… and people will see that. He’ll be so happy to have you around, people will see it. And they’ll love you.”

“But will  _he_  be happy? We argue about the lack of time together all the time,” she said. “Even when I  _do_  try to give him time.”

“I think you need to take some personal time and see if it’s worth it.” He reached a hand into his suit coat and withdrew from the inner pocket a white business envelope. Unsealed, though thick with folded paper, he pushed it toward her on the linen-covered table top. He held a hand over it until she looked at him. “Before you open this, you have to promise me something.”

“Promise what?”

He cleared his throat. “That you’ll take the next ninety days off—use up most of your accrued leave time—and enjoy life.”

“ _Three months?!”_  she screeched, drawing attention from the tables around them. She put her hand over his. “I can’t leave everything for three months. What are you going to do?”

“Hire a replacement,” he said. “Because even when you come back, you’re not coming back as my assistant.”

“I’m… not?”

He shook his head and removed his hand. “Inside is a contract for your promotion to CFO.”

“ _What?_ ” she squawked. This was…  _everything_. Everything she had worked for, ever. All the blood, sweat and tears she’d poured into business school, the long nights spent poring over the company financials for him, teaching herself the workings of their business. “What about Gordon?”

“Gordon is retiring at the end of the year. We’ve not announced it yet,” he said. “I was hoping to get you signed before any press releases were made.”

Ja didn’t know what to do. Her hands shook as she opened the envelope and read the front page. Sure enough, it was a contract for employment, with her details in all the right places. “Where’s your pen?”

Bill laughed heartily at that. “I’m not letting you sign it until you agree to the following terms.”

“Right, right, I’ll take the three months,” she said.

“Nuh-uh,” he shook a finger at her. “There’s more. I also insist that you take weekends off, like the rest of us.”

She nodded. “Fine. Pen.”

“ _And_ , for as long as you have a globetrotter for a boyfriend, you’ll take a mandatory two-week holiday every quarter,” he replied. “Presumably, to be with him.”

“That’s ridiculous, Bill. No one gives that amount of leave.”

Bill laughed. “Well, I do. Now, shake my hand and agree to it. I  _will_  be checking up on you to make sure you’re following the terms of the contract.”

She didn’t hesitate to shake his hand, or sign on the dotted line. She did, however, resist calling Tom to give him the good news. He could stew in his juices for a little while longer. Served him right, anyway, after the way he’d treated her earlier.

* * *

 

That was how she found herself standing around like an idiot, all alone, just on the edge of the red carpet leading deeper into Leicester Square and the Odeon for the Thor premiere, dressed to the nines. Somehow, Bill had talked her into taking the company credit card and spending the rest of the day on a good pampering—sod all the work needing to be done. Bill had clearly called ahead to various places, knowing where he was sending her and what she needed for entrance into Tom’s world. Because she sure as hell didn’t know what she needed, and they’d outfitted her in all the latest fashions with fancy hair and makeup to boot.

As far as birthdays went, even with Tom’s whinging earlier, it had turned out all right.

Until then, she breathed in and out in an effort to find calm, trying not to freak out in the sweltering sea of bodies bumping back and forth, against her, into her, all around hugging and talking and making a ton of noise. That didn’t even include the flashing cameras and the yelling. Good God, the yelling! From both fans and paparazzi. She didn’t know how he did it. And, in fact, she considered turning right around on her ridiculous heels and heading home.

But Bill had been right, like he was always right. Ripping it off like a plaster was the best thing for it. Then it would give her the appropriate amount of time to see if she really could deal with this life—with Tom—before her three-month sabbatical was up. Now, all she could hope for was that he actually wanted her here.

He had been livid when she rang to tell him that she couldn’t get away to have dinner before his premiere… that they’d just have to meet later. So livid, in fact, he said nothing and hung up. She’d almost canceled everything—called Luke back to say never mind on messengering the pass to her and everything. But she didn’t. She wanted to take the chance. For once in her life.

An incredibly tall older guy with grey hair passed beside her, his arm brushing hers.  He paused a moment, smiling brightly down at her. It took another full second to realize it was Jeff Goldblum which precipitated ten-year-old her having a minor meltdown. Okay, maybe it wasn’t minor. She was practically vibrating with anxiety, blinking wildly, as her mouth dropped open.

Jeff smiled charitably at her, pressing a warm hand to her arm and cocking his head to the side. “Hello, dear.”

“I’m, um… hi,” she wheezed.

He laughed and looked at the pass hanging around her neck. “Why don’t you, uh, come in with us instead of waiting out here? No sense standing out here getting trampled on.”

She shook her head. “I’m waiting for Tom.”

“Aren’t they all?”

“I suppose a few of them are,” she murmured, glancing across the street at a group of women wearing very large Loki helmets of different fabrications. “I’m his, er, girlfriend.”

Well, she supposed she was. She didn’t know anymore.

Jeff clapped his hands gleefully. “Oh, I knew you seemed familiar. He was going on and on about you during our downtime between press this week! He showed us a few photos.”

Her face inflamed and she looked away from him nervously. “Really?”

“Just between you and me,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “he’s smitten.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Jeff let out a laugh again, a full deep one, then slipped a hand around the pretty woman beside him, who must have been his wife. “We’ll see you inside, lovely.”

And they moved on, leaving her with a massive crush and blushing cheeks. Fortunately, a loud roar in the crowd stole her attention, though whatever had happened was then blocked by a large black SUV.  She breathed in, then out, listening to the insanity, making out the name they’d begun chanting.

He had arrived.

She stood on her tiptoes—which, really, she already was in these shoes—trying to see over everyone, but she was too small. So, she resigned herself to waiting until he was done doing whatever. The car pulled away, leaving him in full view as he worked his way down the line signing things, taking photos and shaking hands. It was insane. But it did give her ample time to look over his svelte form, in a dark charcoal grey suit, cut to his body, perfectly tailored. She’d always admired that about him—how well he dressed. Okay, dressed when he was on the job. The everyday clothes? Those would need to change if she was going to be around him more.

Heck, she’d be perfectly fine if he wore nothing in the privacy of their respective homes. But when they went out? She didn’t want to be staring at the same thing all the time.

When Luke pulled him along, toward her, she noted that he’d also cleaned up his beard, trimmed it a bit. He looked better. Better than better. Except for the way his lips were pressed together, like this was the absolute last place he wanted to be. Sullen. Fuck, why had she given him such a hard time on the phone this morning?

No, wait. He deserved it for unleashing his green-eyed monster earlier.

Still, she realized, belatedly, how much she’d hurt him, too. It softened her more than her nervousness already had.

Finally, they moved nearer to her, joining the throng slowly making their way down onto the main part of the red carpet. They didn’t seem to notice her—which wasn’t hard, surrounded by so many large people—so she elbowed her way through the black-clothed handlers and stopped dead in front of him, just as he began to pass by.

He froze, frowned, squinted his eyes as if trying to make sense of the moment like people do when they see an out of place object. Then, before she could prepare, his arms shot around her, crushing her to his chest, lifting her in his arms and spinning around. She wobbled in his secure embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck for support just as she felt a giddy giggle springing from her throat. Then he kissed her, full, and long, with demanding lips and teeth and a bit of tongue—for good measure—in full view of everyone. Fuck, he never ceased to steal her breath away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, a huge smile splitting his lips.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she retorted and fingered the lanyard and pass around her neck so he could look at it.

When she finally met his eyes again, she saw tears in them. Maybe not full blown “I’m about to sob” tears, but definitely a little mist. And it broke her. Literally broke her. Why hadn’t he just pulled his head out of his arse and told her how much something like this meant to him anyway? Bloody man.

“Did you know you were doing this from the first time we talked this morning?” he asked. “If so, I apologize.”

“No, I didn’t,” she said. “I really did have work to do… but let’s not talk about it now, okay? We  _do_  need to talk, though. You need to stop being such a jealous arse, and I need to stop letting good things pass me by. But right now, I just want to enjoy the night with my boyfriend.”

His shoulders stiffened. And he suddenly looked like a boy who’d just won the top prize at some sort of school event. “Seriously?”

“Seriously… what?” she teased him, making him work for it.

“ _Boyfriend?_  Not ‘friend’ or ‘lover’ or any of the other ridiculous names you’ve applied to what we are, but never really committing to it?” he asked.

She blushed. Had she really been so bad? Maybe so. “Yes, boyfriend.”

“Well, then,” he replied, entwining her hand with his, “since you’re my  _girlfriend_ , I think you need to come with me.”

“Of course I’m coming with you,” she said.

“No,” he said and waved his free arm at the brightly colored screen with the Thor Ragnarok logo printed across it, and the many, many flashing camera bulbs going off at the latest celebrity to stop in front of it. “I mean, you’re coming with me, and I’m showing you off tonight.”

She frowned. “But Tom…”

“Nope. Stop. You’re here with me now, and I don’t intend on letting you out of my sight.”

She sighed. He was right. This was what she’d agreed to by coming here—it was what Bill told her she needed to do to figure out if she could handle this life with Tom. There was only one thing to do for it. Follow him in front of the firing squad.

“Don’t let go, okay?” she pleaded, her voice tremulous with nerves.

He shook his head. A giant grin made her insides wibble. “Never.”


End file.
